


Night On The Town

by tiger_in_the_flightdeck



Category: Venom (Comics), Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: And the brain eating, Bottom Eddie Brock, Canon-Typical Violence, Dinner Date, Eddie Brock Loves Venom Symbiote, Established Eddie Brock/Venom Symbiote, Fluff, Human Disaster Eddie Brock, Hungry Venom Symbiote (Marvel), Killing Skinheads And Eating Chocolate Cake, M/M, Sex and Chocolate, Sounding, Symbiote Blowjobs, Symbiote Disaster Venom, They Are Venom They Are Married, Top Venom Symbiote (Marvel), Venom Has A Sense Of Humour, Venom Symbiote Loves Eddie Brock, You know... Despite the beheadings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25923178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiger_in_the_flightdeck/pseuds/tiger_in_the_flightdeck
Summary: It's a perfect date night: Good food, laughter, sweet affection, killing and eating skinheads trying to commit a hate crime, chocolate cake.Well, perfect for Eddie and his Symbiote.
Relationships: Eddie Brock/Venom Symbiote
Comments: 25
Kudos: 390





	Night On The Town

**Author's Note:**

  * For [christyimnotred](https://archiveofourown.org/users/christyimnotred/gifts).



> Pronouns might get a bit confusing. I use the plural They in this fic for when Eddie and V are meshed together.  
> Thanks to Christy for Ameri-Picking this. My poor Canadian heart couldn't let go of the U.

“And the source tells me that at least half of the restaurants that appear on their show have been hit with all those low ranks in just a couple weeks before they were approached by the producers for the upgrade.” 

“So what are you thinking? Mass spamming on their Yelp reviews to chase away customers so they have to appear on the show?” 

“Got it in one.” 

Eddie set his phone on the shelf next to his bathroom mirror so he could still talk with Anne while he fixed his hair. Falling asleep straight out of the shower that morning had left him with a cowlick over his ear that no amount of scrubbing with spit would get rid of. He turned the tap on and stuck his head under the water in the sink. “So all these restaurant owners have to sit by while a shouty chef berates them, and they have no idea why,” he called over the water. “And they’re mostly small family-owned places who can’t afford the bad press.” Straightening again, he tossed his head, splashing water around. “Not some hipster cereal bar paid for by Daddy’s money.” His lip curled off his teeth for a moment while he rubbed an already damp towel over his head. 

“This is San Francisco, Eddie. Every other restaurant out here is a hipster place.” 

“And they’re like a damn cockroach infestation. One pops up, then suddenly there’s twenty of them, all serving fries in bed pans, burgers on skateboards, and shots in Diva Cups, while the rent skyrockets, pushing residents out.” With his hair dried, he pumped some gel into his hand to comb through it, leaving it looking artistically dishevelled. “You got people paying fifty bucks for a grilled cheese brought to you by a waiter who puts his foot up on the chair and his balls in your face, and tucked up in the alley next door is the family who got kicked outta their building upstairs.” Turning from side to side, Eddie checked himself out in the mirror until he declared himself suitable. He wound a few of his bracelets onto his wrist and draped his newest charm necklace over his head. 

“Is that going to be your by-line, then?” On the screen, Anne rested her chin on her hand, drumming her nails against her cheek. “‘Balls In Your Face, by Eddie Brock.’? Or whatever pen name they’re making you use.” 

“I think I’m Rainey Daye at this one.” 

Anne snorted, holding her glass of wine away to keep from choking on a sip. “You’re joking.” 

“I wish I was. It makes me sound like I should be giving tips about how to make organic soap out of wheat you grew yourself in your compost pile.” He sorted through his medicine cabinet to find his toothbrush, frowning at the splayed bristles, and squeezing a smear of paste onto it. “Or, you know, the weather report.” 

A new face came into focus just behind Anne’s shoulder. Dan took a swallow of coffee and looked Eddie over. “You’re looking good, buddy. I like the…” He searched for something to compliment, then fiddled his hand below his throat. “What is that, a wolf tooth?” 

“S’a crystal,” Eddie slurred around his mouthful of charcoal toothpaste. “Supposed to bring prosperity. Or banish demons. Can’t remember.” 

“Ah. Well. It’s very nice. What’s the occasion?” 

Venom surged forth, twining himself around Eddie to envelope him, fast enough that the moment that they became one could almost be missed. Their tongue slithered out between gleaming fangs, mouth stretching impossibly large.  **“It is Date Night.”**

Dan shrieked and flailed back away from the screen, his coffee cup flying out of frame as the liquid arched in a long splash across the floor. Anne squeezed the bridge of her nose before glaring at her phone. “You two have  _ got  _ to stop doing that!” 

  
  
  


**“This is not enough food, Eddie.”**

“This is just the appetizer, darling.” Eddie smiled up at the waitress when she brought his bowl of beef pho with a plate of crispy spring rolls. She had raised an eyebrow at his request to have the protein served to him separately, but had agreed and set down a dish of thinly sliced beef flank next to the rest of the food. 

He used his chopsticks to select a piece of meat and dipped it into the steaming broth. It was hot enough to just barely cook it, leaving it rare enough to satisfy Venom but keep Eddie from gagging as he swallowed it. He chuckled quietly at the pleased noises Venom was making in his head and the warmth that spread through his body. 

**“Cow flesh, cow flesh,”** Venom chanted contentedly. While not as tasty as a still beating human heart, or a freshly cracked skull, he found that cattle was a satisfying substitute between murderers. He didn’t even complain too loudly when Eddie insisted on eating a limp green thing that smelled foul. Eddie told him repeatedly that they required green things to function, but he was still sure it was some sort of devious ploy like the rule about eating rats he found in the apartment walls. 

He spread himself out, stretching and moving down Eddie’s arms to lace tendrils of himself between his fingers. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be seen in public, but it was only the smallest part of himself, and he could withdraw quickly if anyone noticed. Eddie’s palms were slightly moist, warm and strong. Venom squeezed and felt a rush of happiness when Eddie squeezed back. He liked this, this Date Night. A human mating ritual, but one he was pleased to experience. His Host taking care of their body while showing affection and care, it calmed the hunger he had felt so keenly before bonding with Eddie. 

He had been  _ starving  _ before Eddie, and now he was full and satisfied and there was a whole world of flavors to sample at his leisure. Venom sent a tiny tendril up from the back of Eddie’s hand to peer into the soup bowl then around to dip into the tangy sauce for the spring roll. He reeled back from that, far too sour. The bottle of soy sauce occupied him for several minutes, its round, squat glass casting his reflection back to him in different shapes as he undulated in front of it. He was so absorbed he didn’t notice that Eddie had taken out his phone to record a video of him dancing as if in front of a funhouse mirror. He did notice the affection that was rolling through his Host and turned to grin up at him. **“Happy, Eddie?”** Despite the small form he had taken, Venom’s voice was just as strong and loud in their head.

Eddie rubbed his thumb over the silky black ribbons between his fingers and across his palm. “Very happy, love.” Wisps flowed out to wrap around his thumb, lacing in and out through his skin. “But you’re still hungry. Let’s go get the main course, yeah?” 

Waving to the waitress, Eddie paid the bill and left a tip that was generous enough to keep her from asking questions about the weird customer who sat by himself smiling goofily down at his hand and talking to his fingers. 

Out in the street, Venom stretched and grew, covering Eddie from neck to hips and wrist to wrist. A casual observer would think he was a particularly glossy leather jacket and not think to look more closely. If they did, they would see that there were no seams, no zipper, and the impossible impression of a smug smile. 

As they rode, Venom took control, weaving the bike in and out of traffic at speeds that would have once made Eddie screech. They came a hair’s breadth from slamming into cars, twitching to the side at the last instant while drivers hollered after them. He knew which direction to go, because Eddie knew. He followed the mental map, cutting down alleys and drifting across lanes and snarling when horns were blared. The motorcycle was a powerful machine and Venom had spent hours exploring every inch of its engine and frame while Eddie worked on it. 

They slammed to a halt in front of a second restaurant, the back tire lifting off the asphalt from the momentum and their body lurching forward against the gas tank. Venom tightened his hold and brought them back down safely. 

“This is a nice place,” Eddie said as they pushed open the door. He gave the hostess his name for the reservation. “No scaring the waiter.” 

“Welcome sir. Can I take your… jacket…?” The hostess turned back from gathering the food and wine menus, her expression baffled. She was certain the man had come in wearing motorcycle leathers. He even had a helmet under one arm. Giving her head a little shake, she regained her composure and led him to a secluded table near the kitchen. Most customers complained if they were given such an out of the way seating, but it had been requested. Since this customer looked like a bit of rough trade moving up in the world, she assumed he was meeting someone clandestine and didn’t put much more thought into it. “What can I get you to start?” 

**“Meat. Meat meat meat meat. Meat.”**

“I’ll have two servings of the oysters over ice, and the chef’s prime steak. Blue. Tell the chef to just let it kiss the grill. And whatever light beer you have on tap.” Eddie handed the menus back. 

**“Blue steak? Meat should be red! Red like blood.”**

“Trust me, V. You’ll like this.” Taking a sip of his mineral water, Eddie smirked. “Have I ever steered you wrong when it comes to food?” 

**“Peanut butter,”** Venom pointed out. He had gotten it everywhere, it had almost cemented his mouth closed, and the oil that coated him after climbing into the jar had made him so slick that he slid across the floor. And the smell had lasted for a week. 

“That doesn’t count. That was for entertainment more than anything.” 

The waitress returned with a platter of oysters, each nestled onto a mound of crushed ice with sprigs of micro herbs and wedges of lemon garnishing the dish. 

Eddie selected a plump oyster and shook it. Repulsively, the mollusk jiggled and oozed in its shell. Trying not to think of snot, he tipped it back and swallowed quickly. 

**“That was alive!”** Venom roared with delight.  **“Eddie, these are alive! Did you know that?”**

“I knew that, love,” Eddie croaked, gulping at his water. 

**“Eat more!”**

It was easier said than done. Before he could swallow any of them, Venom poked and prodded at the shells, mocking their defenses. It was hard to eat something that was being ridiculed for having such a feeble shell, but Venom purred with each morsel and that helped. 

“How is everything, then?” The waitress chirped as she approached. 

**“Delicious!”**

“It’s great, thanks.

**“Do you think if we ask, they will let us kill our own chicken?”**

Eddie’s smile almost faltered, his eye twitched, but he maintained his composure until the waitress moved on to the next table. 

**“We would have let them keep the feathers,”** Venom sulked.  **“Even the head.”**

“That’s very generous of you. I know how much you like to crunch the heads.” 

A passing waiter paused to look at the empty seat across from Eddie and quickened his pace when he saw he also wasn’t wearing an earpiece. 

The steak arrived not long after they finished with the oysters, and Eddie insisted that they eat the potato that came with it as well rather than pushing it around the plate. When he cut into it, juice poured out, bright red. 

**“Ohhh,”** sighed Venom at the sight of blood pooling on the dish around the slab of meat. It was the next best thing to meat torn off the bone still so alive that the muscle fibers continued to twitch as they swallowed it. Even the sprigs of herbs adorning the plate weren’t enough to spoil it as they devoured the meal, barely pausing for breaths between bites. Eddie had to pull him back to stop him from lapping the plate. 

“See? Told you you’d like it.” Eddie rubbed his belly and tried to figure out how he could climb on the bike without toppling it over. He tucked the container of dark chocolate mousse cake he had ordered to go into the storage compartment under the seat and buckled his helmet strap. 

The bike’s engine growled to life, sending vibrations up Eddie’s body and sloshing the beer in his stomach into a froth. A long belch rolled out, earning dirty looks from a few society girls who were on their way into the restaurant. Venom briefly covered Eddie’s face and snapped at them, and was rewarded with their screams. 

“Hey, remember, we talked about that? Snobby doesn’t necessarily equal bad.” Grinning anyway, he steered into the line of traffic and hooked his heels into the footrests, trusting in Venom to keep them balanced. 

As much as Eddie sometimes missed New York, the balmy San Francisco night air was something he wouldn’t trade. The breeze up off the bay swept along the streets and they turned into it to catch the salt smell of the water. He knew his Symbiote reveled in all of the different sensations that came from city life, and wondered if he would have gotten overwhelmed and worn out living in the Rotten Apple. 

The crime rate in San Francisco was lower, but by no means absent. As proven by the scream for help that they heard from down a side street lined with gold converters and cheque cashers. The bike almost skidded out from under them as Venom wheeled them around to follow the source of the fear. 

They leapt from the seat before the bike was fully stopped, launching at the building. Talons bit into the crumbling brickwork as they raced over the marquees to the mouth of an alley. Five men with shaved heads and patches sewn into their jackets had someone cornered against a garbage bin. The person was crouched protectively over a prone body, fists held bravely in front of his face despite his shaking and the blood streaming from his nose. 

Venom pounced, landing on the man at the back of the group, feeling bones crunch under their weight. From their fingers, ropes of their body shot out to wrap around a throat and squeeze. They lifted him into the air and slammed him against the building beside them. All between a handful of heartbeats before the others noticed that they were now under attack. The man they had thrown slumped to the pavement in a heap like a discarded toy. 

The boy against the bin screamed when Venom stretched their mouth, rearing his head back so their fangs glistened in the street lights, and snapped them shut over a third man’s head. They rolled it across their tongue to savor the flavor before crunching it like a cream filled candy and swallowing. 

A rank stench of urine filled the alley as the last two attackers gave in to the terror that was facing them and pissed themselves. Venom sneered at them both for ruining their taste and grabbed one by the shoulder to lift over their head. They roared in the man’s face before tossing him aside.  **“You are lucky we are already full,”** they told the last, catching him up by the neck and tightening their fist. His eyes bulged, the obscene tattoos on his cheek and temple almost lost in the purpleness of his skin as his air was cut off. He gagged and struggled, pawing weakly at Venom’s claws until a vessel burst in his eyeball.  **“We do not want to spoil our good mood with inferior produce.”**

The man gave one last try for air and sagged in their hold. Venom dropped him unceremoniously to the side. 

_ “Not bad!” _ Eddie called as they approached the two boys.

**“I know. Young. Innocent.”** Venom frowned.  **“Injured.”**

They knelt down to put a hand on the back of the boy on the ground. His heartbeat was fast, but his breathing was shallow and wet. His protector punched and kicked at their arm. 

Neither of them could have been a day over sixteen. 

**“Come, little ones.”** Venom gathered them both to their chest with one arm and scaled the wall of the building. From the roof they leapt across the street and bounded through the night to drop down into a small, quiet park. 

Setting the pair down, Venom withdrew into Eddie’s body for a moment, then flowed out across the grass to sink into the injured boy’s chest. They both hated the sensation of being separated, even for a short time, but an ambulance would never arrive in time. 

While Eddie tried to calm the other boy and clean his nose, Venom raced through his friend’s body, repairing damage to a punctured lung and nicked artery. He found he liked this sort of work almost as much as he enjoyed causing wounds. They were only bonded for a moment, long enough to heal the damage done from a blade, fists, and boots. Not long enough for either of them to go into distress. 

As the skin knit back together, Venom stretched out to take Eddie’s hand. 

The boy coughed and clutched at his chest, sitting up and looking around. When he saw that his friend was still at his side, he grabbed him into a tight hold. 

“You two got a place to stay tonight?” Eddie asked, pulling his shirt sleeve down over his hand to wipe blood away to look them over for any other injuries. 

Having seen what had happened to their attackers, the smaller of the boys flinched back from the touches but didn’t lash out. “We, uh, we. We-” He cleared his throat and lifted his chin. “Yeah, there’s a place a few of us squat. We were on our way there when we got jumped by those shitheads.” He pushed blond and pink hair out of his eyes. “They slammed Brady up against the dumpster and started… Well, you saw.” Adrenaline was making him wobble. 

“Yeah, we saw.” Eddie stood and patted his pockets to find his wallet. He counted out a few twenties and folded them around Dan’s business card. “Here, get yourself a hotel tonight. Tomorrow, call that number. He’s a buddy of mine, and he runs a community clinic. They’ll help you guys out. Tell him that V sent you. Just… Maybe don’t mention the…” 

“The heads,” the boy whispered. He took the money and eyed it suspiciously before putting it in his pocket. “Why did you kill them and not us?” 

Venom took over. 

**“You are good. They were not. We do not hurt good people.”** They shot a line to the tallest tree in the park, ready to swing up and away.  **“Besides,** **_your_ ** **date has already been spoiled enough. Would not want to make it worse by eating you.”** They tried their best for a reassuring smile. 

It didn’t work.

  
  


The radio was playing soft rock, turned low so it was only a background to the clinking of a spoon on a plate. 

Eddie was lounging back on his sofa, naked, with the dish of mousse cake on his chest. He took a bite himself, then held the spoon out for Venom who was in a blob on his stomach. His tongue would flick out to catch the chocolate, and Eddie couldn’t help but think of chameleons. 

His free hand stroked Venom between mouthfuls, humming to him along to the music. Happiness was radiating off his Symbiote, like a silent purr. The chocolate treat had been the perfect end to what for Venom was the perfect night out. They had eaten a delicious meal, snacked on a fat brain and even gotten a gulp of spinal fluid, played the hero, and now Eddie was feeding him rich, dark chocolate while his fingers caressed him. He was in such a loose form because he felt like he was melting with pleasure. 

“Happy, Venom?” Eddie asked, stretching his toes out and shifting from side to side to get more comfortable on the sofa. The leather stuck to his bare back. 

**“Happy. Full. Happy. Love Eddie.”**

“Love you too, darling.” 

**“Date Night is not finished.”**

Eddie twitched a brow as he licked some mousse from the side of his thumb? “No?” 

Stretching and spreading, Venom flowed across Eddie’s skin. Tendrils threaded into his hair to stroke his scalp and tickle behind his ears. Others moved lower to wind and curl and grip around Eddie’s balls and the base of his swelling cock. 

“Jesus,” Eddie laughed, putting his hand to his forehead and spreading his legs. The hold on his balls was tight, and Venom was pressing just below them. Little roots buried into his flesh to torture him from within. It felt like his entire prostate was being massaged from all directions, and within moments his cock was pulsing out pre-ejaculate as if he hadn’t climaxed in months. Venom grew and flexed, filling him almost to bursting without ever needing any preparation. It was a surreal experience, being fucked senseless while his hole remained snugly closed. 

Just below his navel, Eddie could see the faintest bulge that appeared and vanished repeatedly and he bucked up, instinct telling him to thrust into it for more even though he knew he could lay perfectly still and it would continue. Every nerve cluster was teased, and shivers raced along his skin. He dropped the plate to the floor with a shatter and grabbed onto the sofa for support. All he could do was hold on and hope he didn’t snap his spine from the waves of pleasure that were making him twist and arch. 

When Venom sent a thin ribbon of himself down through Eddie’s cock, his Host lost all composure and shouted before clapping a hand over his mouth. 

Long, red, and flexible, his tongue snaked out to wrap around Eddie’s length. It tightened and pulled as that ribbon inside coaxed a shuddering orgasm out. 

Yelling against his hand, Eddie tried to keep his eyes focused on what was happening in his lap, that tongue working at him until come was begging to be released. With his cock filled, it spurted every which way like a shaken beer bottle, and with almost as much force. 

Venom smacked his lips, lapping up the drops and dollops as they landed. It was a taste he had certainly acquired and loved the sticky, salty mess. With a satisfied rumble he pooled over Eddie’s stomach then up his chest to keep him warm and bask in the love that he was practically glowing with. 

**“Love Eddie. Love Eddie so much.”**

He took over, certain that human legs limp from post-coital bliss would never support their weight, and brought them over to the bed to tuck them in for the night. 

  
  
  


It was almost ten the next morning when Eddie’s phone woke them. He rolled over and swatted at the home screen until it recognized his fingerprint to open to the group chat. 

_ Annie: “ _ [ _ https://www.sfchronicle.com/bayarea/article/5-Previously-Wanted-Skinheads-Found-Killed-In… _ ](https://www.sfchronicle.com/bayarea/article/5-Skinheads-Found-Killed-In%E2%80%A6) _ ” WHAT DID YOU TWO DO LAST NIGHT? _

  
  



End file.
